


Three Autumns

by inichuinmylife



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 23:25:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4199031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inichuinmylife/pseuds/inichuinmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you regret it? Breaking up with each other."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Autumns

**Author's Note:**

> This was uploaded on Tumblr under the title of 'Two for Joy', but I changed it here to reflect a Chinese idiom: 'not meeting for a day is like being apart for three autumns'.

“Kiku?” The familiar voice made him stop. _Surely it couldn’t be…_ “Is that really you?”

Trying and mostly failing to rein in the over-eager Pochi, who was on one of his tri-weekly walks, Kiku turned around to face the person who had stopped him. Standing before him was his ex-partner, incredulous, a look of happy surprise on that dear and all-too-familiar face. He looked slightly thinner than when Kiku had seen him last, and had a few more lines on his face, but otherwise, Yao Wang had remained unchanged through the sands of time.

“Yao-san?” The question was mostly there for politeness. There was no way he could ever forget that voice: it was imprinted in his memory, too deep and too intense to erase. It was only natural that that was the case, or at least, so he thought: it was the voice he had heard every night and every day for one of the best and happiest parts of his life, telling him truths about himself that he had never quite known, whispering promises of a golden future that had never quite come to pass.

At first, he was not quite sure how his ex was going to react. Yao seemed to be experiencing a mixture of confusion, uncertainty, and happiness, and he was fairly certain that he must have looked the same.

Yao hesitated, as though not quite sure it really was him, and then broke into a blinding smile that Kiku had not forgotten but which had long since faded from his active memory. His heart skipped a beat. “It’s been _ages_!” Yao moved forward as though to engage him in conversation, still somewhat uncertain.

Kiku let out a breath he did not realise he had been holding, and wondered why he was so tense. There had been no animosity between them in the dying days of their relationship, and it had not ended badly. Things had just… fizzled out, that was all. They had split up after nearly one and a half years of a relationship unlike any other he had experienced, filled with romance and intimacy and the simple, kind love that makes each day whole. And then, three years ago, things had stopped, ended, gone cold, and he had not once met Yao Wang since.

In all honesty, if you had asked him whether or not he would have liked to, he probably would have declined. Not because he disliked his ex, or bore him any ill will, but because (bluntly put) he had never quite got over him.

He wondered exactly what he was in Yao’s eyes; whether he was something dear and treasured, even now, when all other ties had been cut, or just a mere memory, fondly recalled but belonging solely to the past.

“How have you been?” Still smiling, Yao crouched down to greet Pochi, who had been sniffing with great interest around his shoes. Pochi licked his fingers, and Yao laughed, a tuneful sound that resonated in Kiku’s heart and reminded him of home. “You got a dog?”

“Yes,” Kiku said, rather redundantly. Somehow, Yao still had the ability to make him feel shy. He was introverted as it was, but not usually like this, where every word made him blush and only increased the pounding in his chest. “I… I’ve been good, thanks.” His response was a lie. He wanted to say something, to cry out, to confess that ever since they had split up he had been lonely and aching. But what could he say? It would only cause trouble for Yao if he did. “What about you? How have you been?”

Yao straightened up from stroking Pochi and quietened, his expression changing from a brilliant grin to a quieter, more serene smile, filled with both strength and a sense of calm. Kiku recognised the expression from rare moments of captured peace. Yao would find him surrounded by a frame of light, look at him, and tell him – all too seriously – that he loved him. At the time, Kiku had had no word for the emotion, even though he had felt it too. Yao was content, at one with his life and his world, and for that, Kiku was glad, even if he could not be by Yao’s side.

“I’ve been good too,” Yao said, the smile fading. “I got a new job. You know. New start and all that.”

“Ah,” Kiku pretended to understand. His own lifestyle had not changed much at all. He had not chosen to disassociate himself from the past. “I remember. You weren’t getting on with your manager.”

“That’s right,” Yao sounded curious. “You’ve got a good memory.”

He smiled. “Maybe.”

Kiku listened as Yao recounted the events of his past few years to him, drawing quiet comfort from knowing that his former partner seemed to have been very happy. Yao had changed jobs, managed to secure enough money for both a property and a car, and had finally managed to learn how to use a mobile phone. It was nice to know that Yao was so happy, but Kiku also found himself taking great delight in simply being near him again. He very much doubted that anything would come of this encounter, and it was all the more precious for it: it was, in some respects, the chance he had been waiting for. Not a second chance, and indeed very limited in scope, but at the least, he could know what he had longed to know: that Yao was safe, well, and getting on with his life.

Yao finished his tale with a soft sigh. He seemed wistful, nostalgic, and there was in him maybe even the slightest hint of remorse. Again, Kiku found himself wondering, almost desperately, where he factored into Yao’s life. And then: “and I met someone.”

Despite what he had tried to convince himself – that Yao’s happiness was more important here – it was a bitter sentence to hear. “…Ah,” he said finally, not quite sure what to say. Congratulations were probably in order, but they felt bitter coming from him, forced. “And… how are you getting along?”

His ex’s smile faltered, but only for a brief second. “…It’s strange. I _like_ her, don’t get me wrong. I love her too, or at least, I…” He shook his head. “It’s different, that’s all. Not the same as when I was with you.”

Kiku wondered what that was supposed to mean.

“We haven’t been going out long,” Yao said, scratching his head. “She’s… Ah, never mind. Anyway, what about you? Met anyone nice?”

“No,” Kiku said with a small, quiet laugh, and gently shook Pochi’s lead. “Just my dog.”

There was a sense of deep and bitter sadness in his heart. He had not been hoping for anything out of this accidental meeting, but…

But maybe that was a lie. Deep down, hadn’t he been hoping for Yao all along?

And now, chance had taken him away again. _Oh well,_ he tried to tell himself, _things happen._ It hadn’t been bad, per se, and he stood by the fact that – regardless of his feelings – what he had wanted most was to know that Yao was and would be happy. “…Congratulations, Yao-san. I hope things work out for you.”

He was surprised to find that he meant it, and that he had sounded more convincing than he had thought.

“Thanks.” Yao beamed again, but something was lost behind it. “And you know, you’ve got to get a move on too. I don’t want you being lonely for the rest of your life.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, softly, for it seemed that while Yao was meant for him, he was not quite meant for Yao. “I have Pochi.”

Yao looked sad then, and Kiku wondered if he had said something wrong. “I’m sorry I never kept in touch,” Yao said suddenly, reminding Kiku of their old vow. “I… I was too nervous to contact you. I backed out. I guess I kind of figured that if you wanted to get in contact, you’d do it first. I surrounded myself with that excuse, saying that it was okay to think like that, that you were just taking your time about it…”

Kiku smiled. “I did the same thing.”

“We always were in sync.”

“Too much.” They laughed, but it was not out of happiness or amusement.

“Yao-san,” he said suddenly, knowing that he was treading on very, very dangerous ground but feeling compelled by something to do so all the same. “Can I ask you something? Do you remember when we broke up?”

“…Yes.”

Kiku looked down at where Pochi was sniffing at Yao’s feet. “We didn’t really try to work stuff out, did we? Just… ended it because it was changing, and we didn’t know why.”

Yao looked pensive, and in a sad and lonely moment, very old. “We… should have tried harder to save it.”

Kiku swallowed hard. “And… can I ask something else?” Yao met his eyes, and nodded. “Do you… regret it? Breaking up with each other.”

His ex-partner looked at him with a measure of deep and heavy sorrow, a lonely expression in those once joyful eyes. “Yes,” he said finally, sadly. “All the time.”


End file.
